Forty steps on a gray stone path
Counting out the winter's wrath
Salty skin and a weathered hand
Walking back to a quiet land
The Monarda blooms in red
Wait until the day is dead
Rooted deep in heavy clay
Watching all the light decay
Walk the line of the gravel drive
Feel the heavy hum alive
Counting steps till the night is blue
Counting steps till I get to you
Sails are folded in a wooden chest
Now the anchor finds a place to rest
Tidal marks on a faded coat
Ghostly lines of a drifting boat
The Digitalis stands tall
Waiting for the dew to fall
Rooted deep in heavy clay
Watching all the light decay
Walk the line of the gravel drive
Feel the heavy hum alive
Counting steps till the night is blue
Counting steps till I get to you
Heel and toe on the crushing grit
Where the orange summer embers hit
Measuring the distance to the door
Like a map of a distant shore
Walk the line of the gravel drive
Feel the heavy hum alive
Counting steps till the night is blue
Counting steps till I get to you
Scent of loam and a damp wet breeze
Stretching out through the maple trees
Latin names for the wild green vine
Tangled up in a jagged line
Walk the line of the gravel drive
Feel the heavy hum alive
Counting steps till the night is blue
Counting steps till I get to you
Copper skies and a purple haze
Counting down the remaining days
Old horizons in a steady glare
Heavy salt in the evening air
Walk the line of the gravel drive
Feel the heavy hum alive
Counting steps till the night is blue
Counting steps till I get to you
Forty steps on the gray stone path
Forty steps in the winter's wrath
Just a few more steps to go
Slow it down, keep it slow